Year 2020
by Louna Louise
Summary: Eren is a seventeen-year-old college student. He has a strong temper. He also hates sitting in a chair for hours and would rather pick a fight in a bar than going to class. He is far from knowing that this self-destructing behavior will save his life in a very close apocalyptic future, and lead him to uncover some truths about the world, that he might not have wanted to know of.


_HELLO! Welcome on the very first chapter of Year 2020! I am super excited to share these first few pages online for the first time!_

 _Firstly, this work is bound to be a long one, that I am currently still writing. So far, (on September 3rd, 2018) I've reached approximately 33k words for 4 chapters and a half, and I'm planning on continuing. However, college is starting again in a few weeks and I won't have much time after that, so be aware that there won't be any regular posting. Regardless, you can be sure that I will finish this story, one way or another._

 _Secondly, and although I am able to write in English, French is my mother tongue. As such, there will be grammar mistakes in this book. When you spot them, please report them to me so I can correct them and make it better to read for everyone._

 _I hope you enjoy your stay in my universe! xx Louna_

 **YEAR 2020**

 **CHAPTER 1. THE OUTBREAK**

 **October 16** **th** **, 2020**

Eren's phone started ringing again, for the fourth time in twenty minutes, causing him to grunt, _again_ , for the _fourth time._ In _twenty minutes_.

Groping, he found his phone's screen and without actually looking, which would have included opening his eyes – something definitely too hard for now – he pressed Snooze.

However, this time he didn't go back to sleep right away, his brain starting to awaken and think consciously. Eren fought it for what seemed like a really long time, but ended up realizing he was awake anyway.

His eyelids rose slowly, revealing two emerald irises and pupils adjusting to the sudden change of light. He moved his head to the side of his bed to check out the time.

 _6:55 a.m._

"Damn college" he grumbled.

For a few seconds he thought of turning his phone off and going back to sleep, then understood there was no point in staying in bed, and ended up in the shower, taking as much time as possible.

He didn't want to attend his classes, and had made sure to turn off his alarm clock the night before so he could sleep in, but he figured that Armin – Armin Arlert, his roommate and second-oldest friend – had decided differently. He sighed.

It was a fact that he hadn't been to class in a few days – alright, weeks – but the truth was that studying Law had started boring him out a month after he started it. Some classes were okay, but the vast majority of them just didn't sit with him. He wasn't actually the type to enjoy sticking to a chair for hours, listening to some Professor speak hours on end, no matter how interesting the lesson supposedly was. He had skipped one class, then another, until he had completely stopped going.

He spent most of his time at his girlfriend's place. Mikasa and him didn't have the same schedule and she was free when he was supposedly busy with class. In a way, the situation contributed to the growth of their four-years-long relationship since they would not have seen each other much otherwise. Or maybe it was just an explanation he had come up with after some time. Either way suited him just fine, and Mikasa had never complained, although regularly making a point on how important attending his classes was if he was to graduate at some point. This was when she had enough of him being over, which was fortunately quite rare.

Eren had known Mikasa since their youngest age. His mother had told him countless times how they had met at the park on the summer solstice of 2004, both aged one. Since then they had been inseparable, growing up together, having the same friends, going to the same places at the same time – sometimes without even saying so to the other – liking the same kinds of music and so on. When both had skipped a grade for having learned to read by themselves no one was really surprised. Yep, Eren pretty much could not remember ever being separated from her.

During their puberty, both had started developing interests for the opposite gender, and although it was obvious to everyone but them, they started taking a different kind of liking to each other. It took them both up to a year to realize they craved each other's presence more than friends would and a few other months to admit it. From then on they had been dating, but not much had changed. They still were each other's best friend.

When the time had arrived to choose a field of study they had taken different paths – Eren seemingly interested in learning about his country's jurisdictions and Mikasa preferring to study Biology – but they had made it clear to their parents that they wanted to be in the same city, although they were made to accept not to live under the same roof. They were too young to live with their partner to the adults' liking. It was a pain really, but somehow both had understood their point, and they had ended up not living far from each other anyway. They also saw enough of each other to bear with the – rather short – distance.

Eren turned the water off and got out of the small cabin, reaching for a towel. He found one waiting on the toilet seat, still humid from his shower the night before as he had forgotten to hang it.

After battling with it to dry himself, he passed a light gray shirt and a black joggers before taking his phone, headphones, flat keys, and public transports card and headed out to Mikasa's apartment.

Mikasa shared her place with another girl named Fallon Breckenridge, a twenty year-old student in Informatics from the United States who had come to their country to benefit from a cheaper scholarship. Although she was three years older than them, Eren had never felt like Fallon was that different from them, exception made that unlike him she was very serious about obtaining her degree, even though she still had a year or so to go. Eren soon arrived at destination and opened the door with the set of keys Mikasa had given him.

"I'm here!" he announced.

From the back of the apartment he heard Fallon answering. "Mikasas' not here today! She went with her club to organize some event at Granny's!"

"Oh." Eren stood still at the entrance, unsure of what to do. Mikasa had always been there when he entered the room, or when she wasn't she always made sure to let him know beforehand. This was new, and he wasn't exactly sure what to make of it.

"She said you can stay and wait for her if you'd like!"

"Oh," he said again. "Thanks!"

With that, he decided to make himself comfortable in her room.

As he entered it, he realized it had changed since the last time he had come, two days ago. It felt somewhat different from usual, a bit more… grown.

Mikasa had gotten rid of her fluffy pillows and light strings that used to hang above her bed and made a nice and warm light when she turned them on at night. Her pictures book had also disappeared from its shelf and was probably hidden in a drawer somewhere, and contrary to how it always had been, no cloth were to be found on the floor. Apart from her desk, full of paperwork, the whole room was tidy and smelled of cleanness. For the first time Eren felt like intruding her privacy and so he closed the door and went back to the living room where he sat heavily on the couch and turned the TV on.

A news channel appeared on the screen, and as the journalist spoke on about a famine crisis somewhere in Africa, he looked down at his phone and started scrolling.

Unsurprisingly, the news was nowhere to be found on social media. People preferred sharing the hot new fashion icon or pop star's release than bothering themselves with what they thought was not their business. Eren was no different than them, although – like many other people – he still had a certain sense of guilt upon hearing what other human beings suffered. But, for all he knew he was just damn lucky to have been born in western Europe.

His phone let out two short rings.

 *** 1 NEW MESSAGE ***

From Armin.

 *** Come on campus. ***

Armin was – and had always been – what adults defined as a nice kid. He was polite, helpful, had interesting conversation, and took his studies to heart. He never used strong words, or never gave orders to anyone, like he had just done. Also, he never – ever – insisted when someone turned him off, especially when that someone was his best friend whom he knew would rather eat rotten meat than go to class.

 *** What's going on?*** he answered hastily.

The answer came right away.

 *** Eren Jaeger, I swear if you're not here in exactly 1800 seconds I will tell Mikasa you've been cheating on her. ***

 *** That's one bold lie she'd never believe. ***

 *** You get my point. Be there. ***

 *** Alright, alright, where do I find you? ***

 *** Be there and you'll understand. ***

 *** Can't you be more precise?***

But he got no more answers from him.

"I'm heading out!" he informed his girlfriend's roommate. "If Mikasa asks, I'm on campus!"

She did not answer right away, instead peaking through the open door of her room at the end of the corridor.

"I'm not lying to her."

"I'm really going there though."

"What's happened to everyone today…" he heard her mutter to herself.

Alright, maybe him going on college ground was a tiny bit out of the ordinary, but he didn't find it _that_ unbelievable if he thought so himself.

Before he knew it he was checking the way on his phone and caught the right bus just before it left. He would be on time.

When he arrived he got the impression something was out of place, although he couldn't say exactly what. The huge stairs were still there, the flow of students was still moving nonchalantly from a place to another and the old buildings were still in place and… Well, still old. Something in the air smelled of… smoke? Was that what it was? But apart from that nothing was standing out.

He took out his phone.

 *** There's nothing here. ***

 *** Come in the auditorium. That's where the fun is. ***

 *** Where is it? ***

 *** You seriously need to attend your classes… It's the huge building on your left, up the stairs. ***

 *** The one with the clapping doors that make a ruckus? ***

Once again he got no answer and resigned himself to look for his friend.

As he approached the red-painted wooden doors Eren realized that they were not actually making any noise. Instead, the sound came from inside, and sounded more like firecrackers than anything else really.

Uneasy, he entered the building, but had he known, he could not have not frozen at the sight before him.

He stood at the top of the stairs, and as such he was in the highest place of the auditorium. Below him, the seats were empty of students and laptops, who had gathered at the bottom of the room and formed a steady line from a door to another. He spotted Armin's blond hair amongst them, near the beginning of it, and joined him quickly, even more confused than before.

"What's up?" he asked drawing his attention to him.

"Eren! You've _got_ to try this! It's awesome!"

"What is?"

"You didn't see on your way here?"

They were interrupted by an approximately 1.75 meters-high boy with grayish hair who seemed quite unhappy Eren had cut the queue.

"It's okay," said Armin calmly. "He's with me."

"How does it make it okay that he's with you?" he answered, his voice rising.

Eren got between the two, readying his fists to prevent his friend from getting hurt.

"If he says it's okay, then it's okay, stupid."

"Who are _you_ to call _me_ 'stupid', stupid!"

"Shut it you two," intervened Armin by his small stature. "You make any more noise and we get thrown out."

For some reason, that seemed to calm angry-boy down and the student went quiet, but he did not stop killing Eren with his eyes. The seventeen-year-old could feel his glare burn his nape.

"So, Armin," he continued. "What's the deal?"

Angry-boy answered for him. "The _deal_ is that the army came and for some reason they started teaching us to use a hand-gun, so everyone has been queuing for almost an hour to do just that and you just completely rudely walked past the entire line."

"No-one asked you, jackass."

"You should speak better to your elders, dumbass."

"What _elder_ you are, stupid _gray-hair_."

"Stop it already!" shouted Armin. "Eren, just get behind him already. And Jean, you're also seventeen so stop acting like you're superior just because you're a year above us."

"That just proves my point y'know?"

"You have a girl name?" mocked Eren as another shot was heard through the door before Armin.

"If you weren't so idiotic you'd know by the pronunciation that it's actually French. Jean Kirstein," he introduced himself. "Pour vous servir."

"Eren Jaeger, whatever you say. Please take your place behind Armin back, I wouldn't want to stop you from firing a gun on campus."

Jean winced. "Why do you make it sound like it's a bad thing?"

"Oh, I'm not sure. Guns and education kind of don't seem compatible, but only to me it seems."

"It's not because stuff like that happened in the US that it's happening here y'know? They're just teaching us to shoot, nothing more."

"Why are they though?"

Both Jean and Armin shrugged, not knowing any more than he did, and finally, the door opened, letting Armin in, a big smile on his face.

"Try to behave!" he let out before the door closed behind him.

A few moments later, another gunshot was heard and the door opened again for Jean.

* * *

After having left the queue, with no desire whatsoever of firing a gun, Eren had decided to have a run in his city's main park before hanging out downtown. At some point he had arrived at a bar and had decided to have a drink.

Eren, despite his age, looked to be in his twenties. He was of average height, seemingly above 1.75 meters although definitely under 1.80, but the way he moved – and maybe his assured eyes – made it look like he had been around long enough to be legal. As such, he was almost never made to show his ID, and this afternoon was no exception. The barmaid served him whiskey without enquiring his identity.

As he slowly drank in the crowded place, his thoughts went to Mikasa.

This was the first time in a while that she was absent for a whole day, without informing him that is, and he couldn't help but wonder what she was up to. He didn't know much about her club, as they always kept a private life from each other in order to avoid too much pressure, but he was fairly certain it had something to do with manipulating chemicals. Or something along these lines. Weird that she was practicing at a burger place like Granny's, he thought.

He realized their anniversary was coming up. He would have to organize something nice, as it was their fifth year of actual relationship, _and_ sixteenth year of friendship. Maybe she was herself putting up something together? He'd have to wait and see.

The beverage was a bit too strong for him – or maybe drinking alcohol on a hot day, after having run an hour and with no food on his stomach had made him less resistant to it – and he started feeling seriously lightheaded. When a drunk tried to pick up a fight with him for some unknown reason, he knocked him out with a few punches, and took on the next one to present himself before him.

Sometimes Eren felt the uncontrollable urge to fight, and he hit whoever or whatever he could lay his lands on. Mikasa called it anger-issues. He preferred the term "letting off steam".

His bad habit of getting into every fight in a ten kilometers perimeter, on a weekly basis, was one of the main topics she – and his friends in general – faulted him with. He couldn't exactly say they were wrong to do so – he couldn't count the times he had had to be patched up by one of them – but to him it wasn't that big of a deal since he always turned out victorious.

This time however he was still fighting two forty-year-olds – under the close watch of the interested barmaid who had bet against him with her co-worker– when a police car rolled past the entrance and stopped a few meters away.

A short, slim, Asian-typed man stepped out of the vehicle and slowly made his way to the fight, before waiting for the teenager to finish the last man off.

The woman behind the counter slid a small coin to her colleague. Technically the youngster had won the fights thrown at him.

Then, without letting Eren explain himself – if there was anything to explain really – the policeman showed him the way to the car.

"Ye can't make me go wit you!" exclaimed the boy, struggling with speech.

"You just beat up three people in front of a bunch of others, kid. Including me. Don't make me say it again."

The man's voice was surprisingly deep. It was also very – very – calm, as if he did not actually care whether Eren went with him or not but had to make him anyway. He patiently waited for the teenager's decision, arms crossed on his chest and back resting on the entrance wall.

Eren, despite his foggy thoughts, decided it was definitely a bad idea to assault a police agent and accepted to follow him. A few moments later the vehicle started moving again, straying Eren away from the bar and the coin sliding back into the barmaid's hand.

 _Technically,_ the boy had ended up in a police car. It was just as bad as losing, wasn't it?

* * *

The ride wasn't as long as Eren had expected it to be. Or maybe he had fallen asleep and only woken up when the car stopped, he couldn't really tell. What he _could_ tell, however, was that he was currently handcuffed, pushed to walk in front of the policeman, and towards the police station. And that he felt like throwing up.

As they entered the building, they – or rather the other man – were greeted by the desk team.

"Ackerman. Stop going off on your own, will you? What do you bring back this time?"

Said-Ackerman answered grumpily. "There's still room in the sobering cell I presume?"

"At this time of the day? Most likely."

Without any other second to waste in chit-chat, the man opened a door in the back of the room and ordered him to follow.

"Can ye get the 'dcuffs off pliz?" asked Eren deeply concentrating to speak and walk at the same time.

"Just how many drinks did you have, shitty brat," responded the dark-haired man, coldly.

"Yuan."

"That's pitiful."

"High resiztence i'nt something t'be proud of," he tried to talk back.

"Your state isn't either. Now, you get in there, drink your water, sleep for a bit and someone will come check up on you in a few. I'm not sure if you're conscious enough, but you're in deep shit."

"Y'know, not that much. M'not legal yet. Ll'be eight'n on March 30th."

"Good for you. It doesn't prevent you – and your parents by the way – to take responsibility for your actions. And the bar's manager since you're apparently underage. Congratulations. I believe I've stated your rights before, haven't I?"

Eren honestly could not remember. Before he knew it, he was on all fours and giving back everything he had eaten or drunk in the past six hours – pretty much essentially bile and alcohol. He heard agent Ackerman swear in disgust behind him but he could not control his own body's spasms and the acid liquid kept coming out from the back of his throat and onto the cell's floor.

He faintly sensed someone cleaning his mess, getting water down his throat and giving him a spare of cloth, and then he fell asleep on the bed, everything turned dark.

* * *

A night in jail was as boring as he could have expected it to be. The teenager was alone in the room and the whole facility was as quiet as could be, except for the regular drop of water that hit the ground somewhere outside his window. He had tried to go back to sleep, but failed, and had had no choice but to stay awake and find an even more boring activity. So far, 7254 seconds had passed since he had started counting, which made him estimate the time at around midnight.

He did not expect to suddenly hear a series of gunshots behind the walls - _inside_ the building – and the quick, heavy sound of footsteps entering the corridor.

He did not less expect to see 160 centimeters-tall agent Ackerman storm into his cell, panting, and lock the door behind him as if his life depended on it.

"Stay away from your window, kid!" he ordered, his voice rough. It took him a few moments to catch his breath. Even with the lack of light Eren could tell his hair was messy, that he was sweating, and that most of his body was covered with a dark substance. Ackerman's eyes caught a glimpse of moonlight and the boy froze in fear.

Those eyes were the eyes of a dangerous predator, narrow and calculating, able to kill in cold blood and never thinking back on it. They shone with a cold stare at him, and he couldn't help the thought that he was about to be killed.

Too quickly for Eren to catch the whole movement, Ackerman rose his gun and fired. He gasped, and then heard a guttural scream behind him. He turned around fast enough to see a body fall from the window.

"What the…"

"I don't know either," said the policeman, clicking his tongue. "People have gone mad."

"What do you…"

"I said I don't fucking know, brat! Keep quiet. I'm thinking. Here are your personal belongings, you should check up on your friends and family."

This was perhaps the longest sentence he had said to him. If Ackerman ordered him to contact his acquaintances he definitely would. He feared too much for his life otherwise. He sat on the floor, far enough from the window and unlocked his phone.

Waiting for him were a bunch of unread texts and unanswered calls, the vast majority of them from his parents. These were both worried and threatening messages, considering the stages they had had to go through upon realizing their son had been incarcerated. Two were from Mikasa. She had informed him she had gone back to her place and that he could come over if he wanted. Well, he would be a bit late. He rose his gaze to the quiet policeman across the room.

"Is there a problem?" questioned Ackerman.

The boy swallowed his saliva and chocked pitifully. "N… No, sir."

"Any news from your close ones?"

He shook his head. He was not about to tell this guy anything about his parents or girlfriend.

"I see."

The man took a short breath and Eren noticed that the black substance all over him was actually blood. He felt himself weakening.

"In any case, we can't stay here. The barricade I made up won't hold much longer and these bars won't hide us from their sight, which seems to mean they won't give up on us. Brat?"

Eren came back to his senses.

"Have you ever used a gun before?"

"No, sir."

Ackerman sighed. "This is going to be a real pain in the ass. Get up."

Eren quickly did as ordered and followed his elder through the building, as silently as possible, and soon they entered another room. This one was full of equipment: guns of different sizes, bulletproof vests, boots, flashlights, and all types of tools. Ackerman changed his material and threw as many bullet loaders in his pockets as possible, reachable in a matter of seconds for an expert – which he obviously was. Then he inquired about Eren's cloth sizes, and made him try several weapons asking him those he felt more comfortable using.

Which were none.

This angered the short man for some reason and Eren decided he'd use hand-guns – much more to ensure his survival than out of actual affinity. In addition to that, agent Ackerman insisted on carrying a kind of rifle each – Eren did not know anything about weapons, so that's what it looked to him, although he guessed it was much more complicated than it appeared to be.

"What's going on?" he finally dared to ask. "Why are you helping me escape, and why are you giving me guns?"

He received a cold glare from his elder since he was in the middle of explaining how to use and care for the material. "People in the street suddenly started to scream and bite each other to death. Not to say fucking 'eat'."

"Eat?"

"Do you lack hearing ability at your age?"

"No, sir?"

"Then you heard me, alright. We're getting out of here. Prepare to shoot on sight. Out there it's kill or be killed."

He started walking towards the door but then changed his mind and opened a drawer on his left. He took out several maps and gave a spare each to Eren, who put them in the backpack he was given, utterly confused. Then Ackerman opened one of them in front of the teenager.

"This is a map of Fayholde."

He pointed a location.

"We're here, at the main police station. I'm guessing we'll need to avoid usually crowded areas so… This will be our route. We're going out from the back door although there will most likely be people there too. Then we're heading west through the small streets, I know my way around there pretty well so we'll be able to entirely focus on any danger we will encounter. I'll be leading the way. Our goal is to find a vehicle. Until then, your job is to watch my back. You fail, we both die painful deaths. Am I clear?"

Eren realized he had been holding his breath. He heavily breathed in and out to calm himself down and then dared look at agent Ackerman in the eyes.

He immediately regretted his decision. The policeman's light gray eyes were as metallic as ever and shone fearfully. He was deeply concentrated on the situation and any loss of time or energy would definitely be used as a reason to punish Eren. The boy had never been this scared in his whole life. He felt he was standing next to an actual, unpredictable monster. Except that this monster was supposedly trying to save his ass, and that he had no other choice but to trust him.

So he nodded and they started moving, Ackerman in the lead and Eren watching thoroughly around them, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Not that he knew what to look for.

Both of them arrived without incident at the door, and the policeman stuck his ear to the surface for a while. He closed his eyes, then opened them again.

"We go west, remember?" he whispered. "There should be a parking lot there. We'll surely need to run at some point. Be prepared for anything. In any case, always act quick. And don't die."

Eren nodded silently. "Why are we not borrowing a police car?" he asked.

"Mine's out of fucking fuel and the rest is unreachable for now."

"You swear a lot…"

He only met cold eyes that silenced him immediately. Then, the agent turned his gaze to the door, and slowly – very carefully – worked the handle, opening it to the outside world.

* * *

The first thing Eren noticed was the smell. A putrid – heavy? – omnipresent smell that scratched the throat and stung the nose. He watched his elder cover his face with his cloth and imitated him, immediately taking position in his back. Breathing was a little easier now, but the stench still made its way to Eren's nose and was uncomfortable enough to make him cough.

The dormant city was mostly quiet – nothing unusual considering the time – but Ackerman's tensed body deterred him to relax. Obviously, the man knew something he didn't. Were there really cannibals rampaging though? All seemed too calm to believe such a thing, but whatever he had seen had made him flee for his life, inside a cell, and Eren could not begin to imagine what could have scared a man of his skills to this extent. He couldn't be an average cop, Eren believed. Something about him was too… intensely terrifying to classify him as such. Or if he was, something must have had transformed him into the killing machine he was today. Because Eren had no doubt his… savior – if he could call him that – had killed before, felt no remorse, and would do it again.

A movement on his left caught his attention, but before he could make any move, Ackerman had fired and a body had fallen to the ground, heavily bleeding from the head. In this moment Eren understood where all the blood on Ackerman had come from.

"Hurry up, kid. We don't have all damn night."

Suddenly very aware of everything around him, Eren followed his pace, although he did not take his eyes off the still hot corpse disappearing into the night.

It took them another few minutes to find a car. They seemed to be in luck since the keys had been forgotten, thus allowing them to leave faster than anticipated. Agent Ackerman naturally sat on the driver's seat and both rolled west in order to exit the city.

On their way, Eren was able to see what had terrified the man next to him. In the streets, people wandered from a place to another, their heads facing the floor, and their bodies drenched in blood, sometimes missing entire areas of flesh. Here and there he could see abandoned detached limbs, but what stroke him most was the ferocity with which some of them jumped on the vehicle and tried to get inside as soon as they entered their field of vision. The boy saw then distorted faces, half intact, half ripped, with deep wounds here and there that could only come from a jaw. He puked at his feet, ignoring the loud complaints of his driver.

Fortunately, thanks to the policeman's quick thinking and visible driving skills, both of them made it out unharmed. Ackerman then engaged the car on the road to Targo, a city only an hour-drive away from Fayholde. Soon they would be safe and have answers.

The trip was spent in utmost silence, both men too tensed to feel like talking. Eren had opened his window to deal with the smell of his puke, and let himself relax once the city was out of sight, observing the darkness around them, only disrupted by the engine's sound.

"It's odd," ended up saying his elder under his breath after a good twenty minutes. "Why are we alone on this road? Surely others have managed to escape."

After that, the lack of noises and lights put the teenager on edge, shivering with fear at any sight his overactive imagination made appear before his eyes. His shivers quickly intensified when the car went out of petrol, ten minutes before reaching their destination.

"Fucking damned to hell good-for-nothing invention of the devil!" Ackerman shouted hitting the wheel. "Fucking useless! Who the fuck doesn't have enough petrol for a damn hour drive! You!" he pointed his finger at Eren. "Take my seat! We're getting this incompetent car out of the way."

And with that he got out and readied himself to start pushing the vehicle to the side of the road.

"Why aren't you moving, brat?" he spit with an even sharper voice.

Eren started breathing again and took his place at the driver's seat, trying to ignore the anxious scream at the back of his head telling him nothing could go worst, right? Right.

After having put the car aside, all they could do was walk, but it was only after a quarter of an hour that the green-eyed boy wondered for how long they would do so. _Surely,_ a ten minutes-drive couldn't be that long by foot. All his hopes evaporated when the policeman informed him they would be on the road for another hour.

Eren had always been the athletic type, loving to run, swim, ski or any other sport really. However, something he could not stand was walking. It was slow, and he got bored very easily. But it seemed he didn't have a choice. Alright, he would walk to Targo and then never, ever, go hiking ever again.

* * *

"My feet hurt…" he complained.

"You sound like a ten-year-old. Shut it."

It had been half an hour since Eren had promised himself to endure the walk. Visibly it had not worked out. His new boots had not been broken in yet and he could feel blisters appearing everywhere on his skin and being ripped with every step he took. He had kept quiet for some time but he couldn't stay silent any longer. Unfortunately for him, his companion could not have cared less about the wellbeing of his feet and was walking a few meters in front of him, completely untroubled. The bag was heavy too. And he had tried to abandon the rifle a kilometer earlier, before being harshly beaten up by Ackerman's very healthy feet, which had completely dissuaded him to try and take it easy.

But _now_ the terrain boots _killed_ him, and he knew he couldn't keep going, which was a _normal_ reaction _anyone_ would have had. Not only ten-year-olds.

His elder's lack of empathy had started to get on his nerves and even if he made it look otherwise he did not trust him one bit. The shooting class on campus had raised many questions, most concerning the government's motive for organizing such an event – Eren was almost certain it was completely illegal, by the way – and although Ackerman wasn't part of it, he was still officially working for the state. What would Armin do? Once they arrived at Targo he would discreetly part with the policeman and search for his friends. The city was the closest to Fayholde by far, hence was the safest bet. All survivors of the attack would gather there for sure.

Contrary to Fayholde, or even his hometown, Targo was not a student city. It roughly counted two thousands yearly residents and the closest train station was more than twenty kilometers away, although a national road had been built nearby in the last months. It had no especial history, except, maybe, for the fact that during one of the religion wars that had torn the continent apart several centuries ago, seventy Protestants had been hanged within its walls. But then again, as terrible as that event had been, it had not been too unusual at the time, and many other towns had shared the same fate. Ironically enough, Targo meant "shield" in some old language barely anyone spoke these days.

The Targonese had a small school for children up to ten-year-olds, an arts school, a public library, a small hospital and police station, and two or three multi-sports terrain where the inhabitants could run or play sports. Two churches could also be found, although architecturally speaking they had become one over the decades.

Targo was located between two rivers – the Patrouille Creak and the Eye – and three hills. Eren and agent Ackerman had been walking towards the peak of one of them for a good five minutes when their eyes fell on the town, and the wind bore them the smell of decomposing bodies and high-pitched screams.

"That's just impossible," let out the older of the two.

"Yet they're here."

This time he ignored Ackerman's silver glare and kept his attention to the raging city below them. A clear thought started to form in his mind.

"Sir, I think we have no choice but to butt in."

"Let's not sacrifice our lives meaninglessly."

"With all due respect, _sir_ , we might not be the sole survivors of this… outbreak, but others might not be as lucky as us. We must confirm whether or not there are sane civilians in the area and if they need assistance escaping the city we must provide them just that."

"No, brat. That's too reckless. We don't know the terrain, nor the situation down there. This is a one-way ticket and I'm not giving up my life to fail saving people who might or might not need saving anyway."

"That's completely unfit of a defender of peace."

"I'm not a defender of peace."

"Should've figured."

A short moment of silence passed, once again disrupted by Eren.

"Regardless, we need to go in there. If we are going to avoid cities for a while we'll need food and water. And I wouldn't say no to a few band-aids for my feet."

"If it hurt so bad why didn't you take the shoes off?"

"I…" started Eren, but he had nothing to answer to that.

Both of them stared at the small town from afar, and Eren felt terrified yet glad he was safe from all the ruckus. But, if his friends were down there…

"Brat," called the police agent, calmly this time, "you're right about obtaining a survival kit. We won't hold up long with nothing on our stomachs. Especially you since all you've done since yesterday is reject everything your body absorbed."

"Hey! I…"

"But we need to move soon. It appears the cannibals only attack when they spot fresh meat so we'll use the darkness to avoid them as much as possible. We'll figure out a way to the grocery store or whatever they have here and then take our leave."

"I really need band-aids though."

"If you find some on the way you take them, but no detour." insisted the short man. "From the public lamps we can guess the way there but we'll need to be prepared f…"

A loud, angry yell echoed through the night, covering his last words. Both men fell to the ground, taking cover, and observed the area in search of its source.

A few meters down the hill, just near the last houses, a woman was fighting a horde of cannibals, swinging a piece of metal around her, and apparently doing a really good job with it. The small but thick bar crushed jaws and legs impartially, keeping her attackers away. Unfortunately, the attackers did not give up on their prey and each of her attempts to flee further into the land had to be abducted when another body jumped on her and she had to defend herself.

There was no telling how long she had been doing this, but second by second her movements visibly softened and Eren figured it was only a matter of time before she was eaten.

Without thinking he jumped towards her and hurtled down the slope, screaming for her to run to him. His hand automatically fell on the heavy gun on his waist and he took it out, putting one knee to the ground to concentrate on the several targets behind the woman. Then he fired. And missed, the bullet disappearing further away.

He cursed all the gods he had ever heard of and prepared to shoot again, but the woman was already at his level, and with her a dozen of moving injured-to-death bodies. He realized he had to get rid of them _now_ , or he was done for.

Imitating Ackerman's gesture a few hours earlier, he aimed for the skull and pulled the trigger. The body fell in an astonishing scream and stopped moving. Immediately, he vised the other moving bodies one after the other. And then he ran out of bullets.

Eren decided it was time to run. Before he knew it he was back by Ackerman's side who was already thoroughly examining the woman's collapsed body in his arms.

"Is she…?"

"She's alright. But she has a damn fever."

"We need to get out of here."

"You bet."

And the three of them ran off in the opposite direction, the petite man holding the woman without showing any kind of supplemental effort. Just _what_ was that man made of?

* * *

They hid at the bottom of the hill once they made sure their pursuers had forgotten them.

Ackerman lied the girl down, took his shirt off and emptied what he had left of water on it before positioning the cold fabric on her forehead. She was having a hard time breathing and from time to time her whole body was shaken by uncontrollable hiccups. Eren could not tell if she was asleep or unconscious from… whatever illness threatened her health, but he hoped she would feel better quickly as it didn't seem they could stay there long. It's only after a few minutes lost in these thoughts that Eren realized Ackerman had been talking to him.

"I should be back in an hour," the man concluded.

Having said so he rose to his feet, gathered his belongings and started heading towards Targo.

"Wait!" called the teenager.

Ackerman looked at him above his shoulder. "What is it?"

"Don't forget my band-aids," he asked.

The policeman clicked an annoyed tongue and resumed his walk, leaving them both behind and disappearing from sight.

Until his return, Ackerman proceeded in taking care of the sick woman. Her face had turned pale and her breath was as short as ever but her fever seemed to have dropped a little, replaced by a cold skin. She had opened her eyes but it did not seem she could see anything in the dark, contrary to Eren whose eyesight had adjusted to the moonlight. It was only four hours before sunrise according to Ackerman, by then she would have rested.

The blonde woman suddenly started to shiver violently while distorting her mouth in a silent scream. As he tried to hold her down, Eren noticed the sign on her chest informed she was named Kanti and worked as a store manager. However, Kanti easily overpowered him and he found himself under her body, unable to move as she held him still. He caught a glimpse of her teeth reflecting the light the moment she dived them into his right arm and snatched a mouthful of flesh with incredible force.

Eren did not feel the pain right away but when it hit him he let out a scream able to break his vocal cords. His vision blurred in an instant and he struggled to escape her grasp. Finally, as she was too occupied toying with her newfound interest, he was able to push her away. His arm burned like crazy and he was losing blood at high speed. His head even started to tilt but he didn't have a choice, he had to escape her.

Benefitting from her slight loss of interest in him, he caught his bag and boots, and started running like a madman towards the countryside. In his shape he knew he couldn't go far, and without food or medical care he would surely faint in no time, but the urge to save his life took over, amplified when he noticed the woman engaging a pursuit. He doubled his effort but she ran fast, faster than him.

Eren chose this moment to start crying. He did not want this. He didn't want to die here, eaten alive by another human. Why couldn't his legs move faster? Why was he already out of breath? Why did his limbs feel sluggish? Why was his vision pigmented of thousands of black spots? Why couldn't he…?

Eren was already unconscious when he hit the ground, only barely hearing the sound of an engine arriving from upfront.


End file.
